Three-Hundred-Some-Odd Years and Countin’
The art of the New Hampshire town meeting.
New Hampshire Magazine Sections
Extras
New Hampshire Magazine
The art of the New Hampshire town meeting.
The beginnings of a family tradition.
Decorating is not my strength. In summer, I harvest catnip and spread it on the floor. It creates texture — and the cats love it.
Gravy was always the pièce de rèsistance of our Thanksgiving table
Tell us, please, where do we find the foliage?
A New Hampshirite who was asked to describe the city of Boston did so in one word: “Unnecessary.”
Little Sister wasn’t much of cook, but Big Sister said, “If you host the party at your house, I’ll bring the food with instructions. It’ll be easy.” The plan was to serve ham with premade salads, chips, watermelon and ice cream.
I’m not handy. Luckily, my husband is. When he put new guts in an old lamp (a large ceramic owl) for our daughter, she was amazed. That lamp, from a local antique shop, sat for months in the dark.
A boy and his father went fishing early one sunny morning. From shore, they cast their lines and let them drift in the water. After a while the boy lay back among the grasses, felt the sun on his face, and fell asleep.
A petitioned warrant article to ban nuclear weapons in a small New Hampshire town came up for a vote at town meeting.